Diary of a Wimpy Kid

Diary of a Wimpy Kid by Jeff Kinney is way popular with kids right now so I picked up the first volume and read it.

Can I say, I loved it! I was laughing out loud the whole way through. The only other book that has ever done that to me was some Dave Barry book -- probably Dave Barry Does Japan. Lucky for me, I get to work in the elementary school library teaching kids to read during summer school, and that place is a treasure trove of cool books. You have to be careful though -- there are tons of new kids books coming out with pretty, tempting covers but a lot of the stories are practically exactly the same as already existing stories. This Wimpy Kid series, however, is fresh and the author's humor is hilarious in a surprisingly non-cheesy way. It is illustrated with cute comics drawn by the narrator, and all the words have the appearance of being hand-written on lined journal paper. I highly recommend it.

PLUS the cover is pretty.

Recess Reincarnation

I'm sorry everyone. I admit it. I'm the worst blogger ever. I hope you will accept my apology and my feeble excuse that I've been busy trying to figure out every aspect of my life. Lame, I know, but true.

I have, however, accumulated several random ideas in the meantime, all of which I hope to blog about in several blog entries to come.

Random idea number one: I had this epiphany during work one day as I was getting my daily vending machine burrito, scarfing it down during my measly 15-minute break, then sitting back down in front of my computer for another several hours. Why the heck are elementary schoolers the only ones who get to have recess after lunch? Why is it that when we grow up, we still eat lunch, but then we go straight back to our desks where all the calories and fat, without any chance to be burned into energy, go straight into our thighs and guts? It doesn't make any sense at all. Who was the idiot who decided that recess is a 12-and-under activity? Give me my four-square and double dutch please!


I think some of America's obesity problem could be solved if we all just decided to reinstate recess into our daily schedules.

p.s. As I was looking for images of the fat people from Wall-E, I noticed there are tons of articles and blog entries about how offensive the movie was. What!? First of all, I thought the fat people were portrayed in a very humorous, loveable way and it was still acknowledged that they are good people. Second of all, when did gluttony become something that needs to be defended? No matter how you look at it, that is not a direction that you want to be headed, so why the offense? Sheesh.

What Dreams May Come

It turns out for a college town, Provo is not the most conducive place for bicycle-riding. Puncture vine seeds scattered all over the sidewalks make for frequent flat tires. This is what they look like:

This unfortunate circumstance has made it necessary for me to scrounge up rides to and from work, at least until I find alternate personal transportation.

One particularly drowsy morning last week, I was deep in slumber when the miniscule rational part of my brain made me wake up with a start. I had work in an hour and still hadn't found a ride. I sat up, reached for my phone, and dialed my trusty co-worker, Hisako. She is one of my most wonderfully faithful drivers to whom I owe plenty. However, that morning, she didn't answer the phone at that particular time. I flopped back down on my bed to think of who to call next. Which, as usual, was Dan, my other trusty and faithful co-worker.

But during that brief moment when I lay back down, my heavy lids quickly teleported me back to the dream world. It was such a fast and smooth transition that I didn't even realize I had fallen back asleep. In my dream, I sat back up and dialed Dan. He picked up, and I distinctly remember his voice:

"Oh sure, no problem! But I have to pick up some cantaloupe for a group thing on the way, so I'm going to be early. Is that OK?" I assured him that it was OK, and with a sigh of relief, I flopped back down on my bed...

...The action of which caused me to enter into a third level of slumber, a dream within a dream, if you will.

A few minutes later, I woke up with a start again, from dream world 3L. Which means I was still in level 2; not quite back in reality yet. What made me wake up was this thought: Wait, did I really just talk to Dan, or was I dreaming? I called him back again just to make sure. (See, I am a pretty rational person in my dreams, albeit not rational enough to just check my call history.) He laughed and assured me that he was indeed coming. "Remember, I have to pick up some cantaloupe?" he said. By this time I was fully confident that I was going to get to work just fine. I flopped back down and slipped back into dream world 3L.

I probably would have stayed that way for several more hours, waiting for fake-Dan to come, if good old Hisako had not called me back at this point. The actual sound of my phone ringing was harshly cacophonous compared to the gentle humming of my dreams, and jumping suddenly from the third level back to reality is an extremely disorienting experience.

"Herro?" I slurred, trying to find my voice.

"Sayaka-chan! Did you need a ride?" She asked cheerfully.

"Erm, noit'sfine, Dan'scomingtogetme," I murmured, trying unsuccessfully to sound as if I'd been up for several hours, "errrm.... actually...," (here I began to doubt myself,) "he might have been a dream... do you mind if I call you back?" She asked me if I was feeling OK before we hung up. This time I checked my call history, and Dan's name was non-existent. Crap. I called Hisako back.

"Umm, Hisako? Can you come get me after all? I guess I didn't really talk to Dan," I admitted sheepishly. She laughed heartily.

"OK, I might be a little late because my son left his lunch in the van and I have to take it to his school, but I'll be right there!"

Only slightly embarrassed because I was still so drowsy, I flopped back down on my bed again, and would you believe it, I started falling back asleep again.

But a few moments later I sat back up in alarm. Had Hisako been a dream as well? No, my imagination couldn't have been good enough to think of her son forgetting his lunch. Cantaloupe, yes, but not that. I checked my call history, and sure enough, her name was there.

At this point I'm sure you all will be happy to hear that I finally threw myself out of bed. This was just getting ridiculous. Hisako picked me up, and I made it to work successfully...

...Where I related the whole story to Dan, much to his amusement.

"I don't even like cantaloupe," he mused.

Repentance

You know how in movies featuring grade school, there's always that one student who gets so many gold stars it spills off of the teacher's chart onto the rest of the bulletin board? The one whom everyone thinks is an arrogant little snot? Yeah, that was me in elementary school. I always had to memorize the most poems, have the best handwriting, and be the fastest at those multiplication table quizzes-- for the sole pleasure of seeing another star added next to my name. That's how submissive I was to the Man. A stupid little sticker star was all it took to convince me to do something. It has taken me 15 years to finally realize how I've been played. I'm so ashamed.

I've also realized life's not so soft anymore. Instead of soft serve it's frozen Italian gelato that you have to keep chipping away at with a metal spoon. It doesn't matter whether you slept in because you were watching an entire season's worth of some ridiculous TV show or if there was heavy road construction and the train tracks were blocked by a stopped train and you got mauled by a tiger on the way to work... a tardy is a tardy. But then even in the adult world there are meaningless accolades given to try and persuade people to do things that only benefit the Man. Employee of the month, free sodas, a bigger cubicle, etc. Gold stars. And I'm determined not to be that arrogant little snot anymore.

It doesn't come naturally-- the third grader in me still gets a little teary-eyed every time I get a talking to. But it's only because I got dust in my eye, or the air conditioning is on too high.

Besides, I much rather prefer Italian gelato.

Top 10 Things I Do Absentmindedly

I've been trying to force myself to add a new blog post for the past week, since I was doing so well for... well OK maybe it was only about 2 weeks. But it's progress, right?

I'm sitting here at work and have had only 2 calls in the past 4 hours. I feel like the blogger gods are trying to give me a huge hint that NOW is the time to blog. I really have no excuse. I mean, I can only check Google Reader and Facebook so many times.

I've been finding that I make a lot of lists in my head. So here's one to start out with -- I think this could be the beginning of a new series of posts.

Top 10 Things I Do Absentmindedly

1. Look for split ends
2. Tie my hair into knots with one hand
3. Spell every word that I think
4. Kick off my shoes, then put them back on
5. Chew on the inside of my lip
6. Sing the last song I heard over and over in my head
7. Raise my left eyebrow (I do that when I'm tired)
8. Make lists in my head
9. Log out of Gmail only to sign back in right after
10. See how long I can keep my eyes open without blinking

Well. That should give you a decent picture of the pitiful condition I'm in right now as I sit here in my cubicle, headset on, pricing sheets spread out, and too tired to socialize with anyone around me.

The Greatest of These is Charity

The other day at work I got a call from a disgruntled distributor.

"There was $100 charged to my card on January 8, 2007. I know I didn't get anything in January. I need you to check on it and get me a refund," he told me huffily.

Nobody remembers what they purchased over a year ago, I thought to myself, but pulled up his order history anyway. He's a busy purchaser... it's one of the longest lists I've ever seen.

"Sir, I'm only able to see up to a year back. I'm gonna have to go into a different program to find anything before then. It might take a while, so is it OK if I call you back when I've found it?" I ask.

"Sure," he grumbles. I verify his phone number and hang up.

I get through the series of passcodes and authorizations in our internal database system and find an even longer list of orders. I scroll down, and there it is: Jan. 8, NTC $100 Donation. I sigh and smile to myself. He had donated to the Nourish the Children Foundation to save children in Malawi and other parts of Africa from starvation and malnutrition. He can't get too upset about that.

I call him back.
"Sir? I was able to locate the January 8th charge on your card," I inform him.
"Yes, what was it?" He asks gruffly.
"It looks like a $100 donation was made to Nourish the Children."
There's a pause on the other end.
"Oh," his voice is noticeably softer, "OK, thank you, that's all." He hangs up.

I smile to myself. My heart feels softer towards him. Not a bad guy really, I think, taxes probably got him down. If only we created more occasion to remember those starving, malnutritioned children -- more hearts and harsh voices would be softened in the world.